Video Transcription
Cigarettes are in the dark,.
The wind of the ashes threw my face.
And the charred filter on his fingers didn't leave a burn mark.
Squeaking steel opened the door.
You're coming, you're mine now.
Cigarettes are in the dark,.
The wind of the ashes threw my face.
And the charred filter on his fingers didn't leave a burn mark.
Squeaking steel opened the door.
You're coming, you're mine now.